


Together, They Survive

by AnthemsReturn



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Plot With Porn, and as for other tags, coming to terms with a bad situation, coping with loss, it's an episodic work so it follows linearly but unconnected, it's like u occassionally open a window into their lives, kinks include!, minor characters not important to the plot die, themes of depression, this functions as completed but i may add more!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24667402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnthemsReturn/pseuds/AnthemsReturn
Summary: They hide to survive, all while fighting the urge to give up. Every day their lives are at risk because they possess innate, unnatural abilities that make them dangerous and make it easy for them to kill. Abilities others use to justify denying them the right to live. Abilities they didn’t ask for, and lives they wish they didn’t have to lead. All they have to survive is each other, and they hope they can each be enough.
Relationships: Gerard/Artemis





	1. Leaving the Corpses to Rot

Gerard traversed the narrow gap between two stone buildings, passing broken windows and boarded up walls that marked the uglier part of town. With every step in the shadows of the fading light between floodlights, he maneuvered around piles of shit and wads of gum. As soon as his path cleared slightly he looked up, ignoring the dubious stains coating the walls as he instead admired the rare pieces of graffiti artwork amidst the gang signs threatening to overwhelm them.

_ What a lovely place to spend your twentieth birthday. _ He thought before he shivered slightly.  _ If only I had a jacket. _ December weather’s barely tolerable without one, even in sunny-as-fuck California.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his tight, lacerated dark-wash jeans and scuffed the toes of his beaten-up blue converse against the pavement as he walked, the slight noise nearly lost in the hum of electricity from the small lights on each building.

The deeper into the heart of the interconnected chamber he walked, the stench of rot, overfilled garbage cans, shit, and blood got worse. Even the gang symbols are thinning out, he mused. He’s so used to back-alleys, having lived in them since he ran away at just fourteen, that it didn’t even faze him. Not with everything he’s seen. Not with the normals that he’s had to kill, just to keep on surviving.

But he ran away to protect them, his family, and damn if he doesn’t wish he didn’t have to. But they’re safe because he’s not there. Because he and his abilities are far away from them, the government can’t find out who he is and use it to find them. Even though they're normals, they could always torture them to get to him. The last thing he needs is for them all to get individually dissected on a table to figure out just what makes them tick. Because even though he’s the only one in his family with powers, that doesn’t matter when everyone’s paranoid the “superhumans,” as the normal people call them, will “take over the world.” Hah, all we want to do is survive… and all the normals want is to kill us for presenting with powers.

They aren’t born with powers; no one is. They present, manifest within them, around the age of eight. Some earlier, some later. And if they present with the powers, there’s an overwhelming likelihood they will die before their next birthday. He’s lucky that his parents loved him instead of feared him, despite his powers. He's lucky he lived with them for as long as he did. 

He grimaced, eyebrows drawing together tight in the center of his forehead, eyes downcast. His heart clenched painfully as he kicked a discarded beer bottle clean across the alley at an angle, satisfied at the loud crash as it shattered against a dumpster. There are so many others of his kind who had it so much worse. He should have had it so much worse.  _ I almost wish I did. _

He shook himself out of his reverie with a start; he doesn’t want to go down that train of thought. With a deep breath, he looked back up and around him, noting the cross-section of alleys he was coming upon were unnaturally clean for the area; fewer graffiti, less trash, less shit. The most dangerous alleys were always the areas that looked the cleanest. We protected those. 

Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't know of anyone controlling this section of the city. An acquaintance of his told him to come here because the area was vacant. Then again, they could have been wrong. Information constantly changes. His kind has to hide wherever they can, and they often move locations. Whoever this person is, they’re doing a good job of protecting these alleys, and they likely won’t attack him, as long as he gets it through to them he’s just passing by.

There’s always a chance they might even let him hang around for a while until he gets his bearings; he came all the way from a small city in Oregon. He’s traveled far, although living under the radar hardly differs, no matter the location. If they don’t run me off, maybe they’ll let me stay for a bit? Their kind usually travels alone, and the last guy he’d been around for a while… well, they’re not together anymore, and he’ll leave it at that. 

He sighed futilely, tossing his choppy blue-black hair out of his eyes, before he cocked his neck to each side to crack the vertebrae, rolling his shoulders back and down with a light sigh.

A gunshot. His head snapped up and immediately turned down the right fork, heading to where he heard the noise. He has no reason to help whoever it is. He shouldn’t. It would put him at risk. But he likes to think of himself as akin to a vigilante, willing to save someone who deserves it, as long as they don’t learn of his powers. Most wouldn’t risk it, but he has a soft spot for the better normals.

He’d quickened his considerable stride before he got close enough to realize that it wasn’t a normal person being threatened. It was the one who was clearing the alleys, that of his kind. Without hesitation, he took off running, dashing around the corner and already envisioning the scenario he'd enact in the gunman’s mind. Mental hallucinatory abilities come in handy, and that’s just one facet of his particular ability’s manifestations. Full-on sprinting, he heard from around the corner a thick voice grunt, "Took my drugs, huh bitch? You want me to take somethin' from you's instead?!”

Having almost overshot the alley, he stumbled a half-second as he rounded on the scene unfolding. Three druggies with guns backed up the headman who had a pistol pressed between the eyes of a girl's skull. She was about his age, and she was definitely the one who cleared out this section of the city. Her eyes were blank, no visible emotions passing through them and her face looked so impassive he thought she had to have gotten injured somehow and couldn’t use her power. She couldn’t have just given up… this isn’t a way anyone should have to die. But she just stood there, not bound, not restrained. Just waiting.

Four sets of eyes turned on him when his shoes scraped the gravel; the henchmen rounded on him while she of his kind just glanced at him briefly, turning back to the headman who hadn’t looked away. The gun pressed squarely up against her temple, and she only blinked leisurely. The boss merely snarled, “Kill ‘em.”

Before anyone could think to aim he spontaneously threw himself to the ground to the right of where he'd stood and then used his power to lock them into their minds. He was beyond enraged, fury flowing through his veins unrestrained as he spun them a nightmare of their own devising, too terrifying for them to handle as they dropped unconscious. The fight was over before it could begin as they instantly went slack-jawed and collapsed, fainting almost daintily until they lay crumpled, minute screams stealing their breath.

While this was occurring, she just watched, staring at their twitching, dying bodies with something akin to hidden amusement or perhaps thoughtful reprehension in its most bastardized form.

Because of how carelessly he'd thrown himself to the side, his elbow had scraped the ground, skin shredding, soon to add another scar to his wiry frame. He’d never counted them, not viewing them as an achievement, and now there would be no point other to distinguish the fresh from the faded. Ignoring the blood running down to his fingers and the splitting sting, he pushed himself up in time to get a good look at the one he'd rescued, taking in her long dyed jet black hair as his eyes roamed over her. Tight blue jeans, too-large grey flannel overshirt tied around her waist, a red tank top, well-worn combat boots, and her eyes- vivid green, reflecting the sparse lighting around them. He regarded her warily, returning her gaze. He's not the type to ask for thanks, but it’s always good to become familiar with a new face.

Staring up at him, she didn't even speak, blinking lazily before looking down towards the ground, tilting her head to her left and letting out a sigh through her nose, seeming to wait him out. Her face still kept its vacant, done-with-the-situation expression, and he realized she wasn’t in shock because she wasn’t afraid. She… hadn’t even tried to run away… but she also didn’t touch the guns, so maybe…?

"Zombie." He made no gesture to himself, but he implied it. 

Having expected him to disregard her and leave, at the sudden words her head snapped up, brows furrowed in obvious confusion. Cute. Then he realized she wasn't confused about why he'd told her his codename; she was confused why he'd said that in the first place. The realization dawned on him with a start, and he blinked, mouth opening slightly before he pressed his plush lips together in a thin line. "Right, I see you don't know why I said that, do you?"

She rolled her eyes before shaking her head with a slight quirk of the lips upon realizing he was waiting for her response, seeming to humor him.

"I can sense your power, and you can sense mine. But you chose not to use yours. And you don't know that I told you the codename I go by for anonymity. All that correct?"

She made a sound similar to laughing, a chuff of air passed between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. "That’s supposed to be a name?" Despite her amusement, confusion seemed clear on her face, although he didn’t know why.

His blue eyes bore unblinkingly into hers at the careless remark, mouth set in a bored but serious line as his posture stiffened in both acknowledgment and challenge.

With an eye-roll and silent sigh, she answered him by looking at the blood starting to leak down his elbow, and then the pain disappeared instantly like it was never there. It was still bleeding, dripping down and making wet blotches on the stained concrete, but he couldn’t feel it. All of their kind’s abilities involve mental facets, so something to do with blocking pain, maybe? But then he noticed he was no longer cold…

She then looked back at his face, not looking into his eyes, stance shifting slightly in what might have been akin to embarrassment.

He smiled, just a slight curve of his lips. "Interesting. And thanks. As I said, I call myself Zombie, and you?"

She regarded him with open caution, noting his looming height, her eyes narrowing and left foot shifting a half step back. “I don’t have a name I go by,” she bit out with acid dripping in her voice. Green eyes became thin slits in the lackluster light. “And besides, why did you even bother saving me? And just who are you, anyway?”

He did a mental double-take, frozen in place before blinking slowly as his brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry?" He asked accusingly, thinking he'd heard wrong. Thinking she couldn't have been implying she's not worth saving.

He stiffened and straightened up as she brought her hands up, but she only reached behind her head and tightened her high-up dark ponytail before she spoke up, her bored voice from before becoming darker and taking on an almost cynical edge. "Which part was too hard for you to understand?” She drawled condescendingly, her stance suggesting a brewing threat that he didn’t want to pursue. She’s over a foot shorter than he is and yet was still trying to appear more intimidating.

He lowered his shoulders and raised both hands slowly, hoping to convey his sincere intentions with his gaze while blood continued to trickle down his arm despite the lack of pain. The shredded skin should have stung when he bent his arm, and he would’ve checked to see if she’s still injured if he didn’t already know. Somehow, he knew his elbow stung, and he knew a breeze just went by, but he didn’t feel any of it. Sensory manipulations, then? "Look, I'm not looking for a fight. I just want to help." He just doesn’t want to lose someone else, despite having just met her. He wished he didn’t have to lose anyone. It’s rare their kind runs into each other, and even rarer they get along. The last guy he was around, he became involved with, but… well, he and Jax didn’t make the best couple, to say nothing of Jax’s… many destructive outlets. He hopes this girl and he can at the very least get along.

In response, she ignored him. She merely stared pointedly, her stance not changing and the threat still hanging in the air. He’d need to do better to convince her, obviously.

He sighed, lowering both head and hands before stuffing them casually into his pockets. "I saved you because I wanted to. I like protecting people; it’s not about you in particular. More selfish than anything else.” He had a feeling she’d accept that, and she nodded, finding the explanation satisfying enough. She said nothing in response and didn’t offer up a name nor ask him who he was again. Her stance relaxed, but she still regarded him cautiously.

Nodding to himself and at the very least realizing she didn’t want him around, he almost turned to leave, feet shifting slightly before he caught himself and turned back. He had a… sneaking suspicion about something…

“How long have you been alone, out here?” His voice quirked upwards in pitch, a leading question by the intonation alone.

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean to say you haven’t been alone? You have different powers, but they’re like mine, aren’t they?” She was accusing him? Her tone said as much.

Gerard’s eyes widened before he looked down and off into space, eyes narrowing in thought before nodding resolutely and looking back into her eyes. “You don’t know that you’re not alone, do you? That there are a lot of us?” 

Her eyes widened and her brows drew together tight. “There are even more…” her tone was near scandalized, but hushed, as if she wasn’t allowing herself to believe it despite however much she wished she could.

“Yeah. I’m actually more surprised you’ve never run into anyone else like us, have you?”

She shook her head.

"Well then, I think it's high time you should."

He motioned with his left arm as he turned and beckoned her to follow him back the way he’d come, but she stayed rooted to the spot.

His eyes softened. “Hey, I know what you’re going through, and I also know it’s not something anyone should have to go through alone. I promise I won’t step out of bounds, and the second you say for me to fuck off I’m gone, all right?”

Now it was her turn to lock eyes with him, though she quickly looked down, considering. She looked up briefly and appeared to scrutinize his old band tee, eyes traveling to his ripped jeans and bright blue converse before darting up to his blue-black messy hair. He stayed silent, letting her come to her own decision. 

"Will you ever tell me your real name?" 

He shrugged. "As soon as I know I can trust you, yeah." 

She nodded mostly to herself and stepped over the drug leader's now-lifeless body, soon reaching Gerard’s side as he turned and walked back down the alley, both figures melting into the darkness and leaving the corpses to rot. 


	2. "... Just because"

“... Just because.” He held back his smirk for as long as he could, which admittedly wasn’t long at all, three heartbeats passing as his heart clenched before his lopsided grin broke through and he stared at her, way too happy with himself for his own good.

Artemis merely glared him down, bottle eyes narrowed to bright, venomous slits as her nostrils flared; Gerard just stood there, smirking. He didn’t dare laugh, but his amusement was plain on his face in the crinkle and darkening of his pacific eyes, shining enough they could cast shadows. The wind suddenly howled its fury at their existence, throttling the trees around them and pricking tears to their eyes, but neither dared back down. Finally, Gerard blinked as he turned his head to the side and away from the wind. First, as always, and it only pissed Artemis off more because she knew he looked away because he was humoring her and nothing more.

She then spoke, her voice strained, not with anger, but urgency, a whisper in the darkness of the woods that carried away so fast Gerard had to whirl his head around to read her lips lest he missed it entirely. “What do you mean, ‘just because’?”

His smirk dropped. He licked his bottom lip, running it gently under his teeth before letting out a heavy, thin sigh, blinking gently at the ground before looking up to her eyes. A quirk of the right side of his mouth failed to inform his eyes they should brighten to match, and the expression looked pathetically empty, emotion devoid on his face because it couldn’t escape from inside. He shrugged.

“I don’t know. But I care about you in some small way. I just do, just because, and I can’t change that, so I won’t even try. I won’t even bother with anything when it comes to either of us. Happy?”

Artemis’s shoulders drooped as her mouth opened, a puff of breath turning to mist in the air, sagging into herself and, for once, seems to not have the energy for a fight. Her eyes dimmed, and eyebrows sank, and she looked far away from herself. He knew that expression, that stance, knew it because he knew her so well.

Gerard’s spine snapped straight as his shoulders squared. He towered over her, six-foot-nine to five-foot-five, yet he didn’t look threatening. Not that she would have felt threatened, anyway. His entire body tensed, and his brow furrowed. “Artemis… I didn’t mean…”

He cleared his throat silently, resolve hardened. “Tell me what’s going through your mind.” His voice was firm, yet gentle, scotch on rocks, his deep tenor reaching through her momentary haze.

“Fuck off.” Inaudible; her mouth didn’t even fully shape a word.

He knew not to reach out to her, not to hold her close and apologize, not to make a single move toward her, as much as he wanted to, because while that eases his anxiety it heightens hers.

With his next words, his voice was thick and strained, the sludged sound struggling to work up through his throat. “Artemis. Every word going through your head. Say them out loud.” He didn’t move a muscle; she likely wouldn’t harm him if he did, even if he tried to harm her, not that he’d ever want to. Even still he stayed rooted to the spot as the wind re-surged, angrily ripping at his skin.

Her voice was loud enough for him to hear over the wind, but just barely, the sound uncharacteristically monotone. “I’m… I — I don’t know. I just — don’t… I don’t know.” The rushed and grating sound of her speech was painful to hear.

He stood stock straight, still as the sky slowly brightened, daylight still several hours away. His mouth set into a hard line as his eyes solidified. “Artemis, I care about you. In a… not so small way. And not ‘just because.’ I just don’t know why either, okay?”

He waited for a response, hoping he’d get one. Several heartbeats thudded in his throat before she nodded her head minutely.

Then she laughed, the sound echoing, almost pathetic, although it’s the last word he’d ever use to describe her. “And yet you’re so damn smart… IQ twenty-something higher than Einstein…”

His lips turned up warmly at the corners. “Twenty-seven.”

She responded with a choked-back laugh, a tear slipping free of her beautiful green orbs that she let run down her cheek and trickle between her lips.

Gerard took a half-step towards her over clumps of dirt and weeds, trampling flowers beneath his converse. Then another step. Again. Three steps and he was close enough to reach out and pull her gently, cautiously, by the shoulder into his chest, the toes of her boots digging into the soil. Artemis just rested against him, not making a move in any direction. He should have seen the signs. He usually does. He’s just too caught up in thinking of her rather than being there for her.

He tangled his fingers softly in her jet-black hair, noting the pale brown roots in the fading moonlight, and wrapped his right arm around her waist, gently resting his palm flat on the small of her back. His heart clenched excruciatingly; he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and protect her from the parts of herself she’s too afraid of fighting, wanted her to belong to him and he to her, and knowing that despite the lack of acknowledgment they both felt the same choked him and stole the air from his lungs so he couldn’t confess in words.

A shiver wracked her body violently, and he knew it wasn’t just from the cold, her emotions struggling to escape as tears but clogging in her veins. He did his best to shield her from the next bout of the wind’s tantrum at their intrusion to the clearing before deciding he needed to make the next set of decisions for them.

He hunched over and buried his nose in her hair, hoping against hope that this wasn’t the wrong time because he knew it sure as hell wasn’t the best.

“Artemis — come with me.”

He couldn’t say it. How could he? Just blurt out his confession when she was so obviously distraught. He couldn’t do that to her.

She suddenly pulled away stiffly, looking up into his eyes and he watched as her own regained their will to fight. Still resting in the circle of his arms, the corners of her lips twitched up into a quick smile, nearly gone before it arrived. “Thanks…”

He nodded, taking her wrist instead and continuing on their path to their campsite. They travel together because while there isn’t safety in numbers in their kind’s case there’s less of a chance of giving up. The last thing he wants is for her, for either of them, to give up.

Gerard felt as Artemis rotated her wrist, tugging slightly before clenching his hand tightly in her own. Facing forward, their eyes stayed locked onto their path and neither noticed the genuine upturn to the other’s lips. They may have hundreds of reasons to give up, but they each give each other a reason to keep going.


	3. It Means Everything

That fucking hurt.

She turned her head briefly to the side and spat out a fat glob of blood, crimson on glistening snow before she turned back and locked eyes with the much taller threatening man who’d just decked her, albeit, not out of the blue and not undeserved.

Artemis leaned back, weight on her right foot and combat booted toes shifting inward, left elbow bending in and arm moving higher to block her jaw as her right fist curled tightly at her side, threatening an underhand punch; she was making her intentions clear. Her center of balance lowered and steel-toed boots crunched the snow she trod upon, the grinding noise heard crystal clear as dawn sluggishly turned into daybreak overhead. It was too fucking early for a spat, especially when Gerard shouldn’t even take offence. But apparently, he’d become offended enough to slug her. And she was only slightly proud; the bastard’s so slow to anger, so slow to fight, but this of all things could have been handled with words. Usually, she’s the one to make things physical.

She’d just made a careless comment, or rather, she didn’t give a fuck about how he’d receive her words. They were walking down the street of one of the shoddier neighborhoods in the area, and Artemis admired how much of an improvement the scenery was to the usual, with the minimal littering of trash and some non-spray-painted signs here or there. And she didn’t have to focus on scanning the ground for gum; it’s rare she gets the opportunity to steal a good pair of shoes and she’d hate to have her current ones ruined.

That reminded her of a… call it what you will: a grudge, a disagreement, a trivial matter blown out of proportion to its necessary weight. But hell if it didn’t still piss her off. Though, she probably shouldn’t have brought it up. Not that she’s gonna apologize.

Gerard had reached out before she could move away, yanking on her wrist and sending her careening to the side and backward. Just as she’d caught her footing his fist slammed into her, centered in her right cheek. Stunned for a solid moment, she didn’t react other than manipulating the effect of the pain out of her mind, an unconscious habit. Then she’d huffed, pissed beyond belief, and, mouth still gaping, turned shocked and accusatory, although not yet enraged, eyes up to Gerard’s face. To his credit, he didn’t shrink away and didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. Sticking to it, hah? 

His eyes were dark, swirling with rage but tamed with control, deep blue pools that would drown anyone weaker. Still, she felt smothered under the weight of his stare, the determined set of his jaw and the purpose behind his stance. After appraising him, she raised her left eyebrow, bemusedly.

A large welt was forming across her cheekbones; her eyes seemed to gain life as if it wasn’t there before, not so much bright as glinted steel, hardening even as her down-turned lips quirked upwards slowly, spreading out the muscles in her face almost unnaturally as if it was the closest to a smile she could manage and the only emotion her face could display while keeping the truth under concealment.

“So… I take it that upset you?” Quiet menace laced her voice, a dangerous intonation making itself clear despite the composure of her face. She braced herself for a fight, collected in her stance if not in her frame of mind.

But then Gerard let his arms drop. Confused, she merely narrowed her eyes in challenge. Then,

“You still think you could beat me to death without powers? Without some way to level the ground?”

Before she could reply, he continued on, making her grit her bared teeth.

“You always want to be so strong, always the one in charge, always in control, and you’ll never give it a rest for one fucking minute!” His voice roared at the end, abandoning its eternal, lasting reserve in the span of a single heartbeat.

Tilting her head slightly and eyes narrowing, her jet black hair swung in its high ponytail and bangs gently fluttered from the wind as her expression dropped to a deadpan. “Why don’t you just give ‘protecting me’ a rest for a change? Still don’t think I can handle myself in a fight? Yet you won’t give me a chance to prove it to you; I wonder why…” At the last phrase, her voice honeyed patronizingly. Gerard grit his teeth.

“Fine.”

Her eyebrow once again raised, though this time disbelievingly and harried. “Really. ‘Fine,’ what then? Go on, I’ll bite.” She spat the last word threateningly.

He was unphased. “I’ll tell you what, ‘cause you’re really pissing me the hell off.” His voice was sharp on the word “pissing,” the “p” puffing out his lips and forming the word into more of a hiss. “Give me a migraine, a purposeful one, but just enough I can’t manipulate you into a hallucination. Then, we’ll both agree to hold the rest of our abilities back. Meaning no manipulating your pain away. I’ll stop before you croak.” He ground out.

She just smirked. “We’ll see.”

With that, Gerard’s face crumpled in intense pain. It had to be, or else he could use his powers. And it was mainly the honor system that she didn’t continue using her own to either stop or incur them pain. But if there’s one thing she hates more than anything else, it’s a broken promise. With that in mind, she set out to beat his ass instead.

Left hook. Dodge. Twist. Kick. Swerve. Fuck, that hurt. Duck. Shove. Kick. Knees are fair game. Stab with the knuckles. Her side; damnit that hurt! He might have ruptured her fucking spleen. Dodge. Kick. Right hook. She quickly gained the upper hand. It would be easier if… well, she didn’t exactly want to shin him there when she so obviously could right now — moment passed. She spared him, but he would’ve dodged in time, anyway. Right hook. Left. Right. Roundhouse. He’s on the ground. Stomp on his stomach; he dodged in time, and she clipped his side. She’d planned that, and he knew but was acting on self-preservation instincts. She then rounded and kicked him, hard, in about the same spot he’d slammed into her side so hard she nearly fractured her wrist on the wall. She didn’t even register the full extent of the pain ‘till then. Acting on impulse, acting fast. She’d acted fast enough. He groaned in pain, curling in on himself pathetically. The fight wasn’t pathetic. Her wrist was most definitely fractured. He’d bruised her side almost as bad as she bruised his. Her jaw still ached from earlier. She’d forgotten about his brass knuckles, too. She’d bit the inside of her cheek in the fight; it was even more swollen and her mouth filled with blood, the iron taste disgusting her as much as it made her feel alive.

She turned her head and spit crudely onto the ground before coming down from the adrenaline of the fight and stepped back. The alley framed him nicely, the boarded-up windows and the light barely filtering in making for a nice touch, accenting the black and blue hue to his alabaster skin. His blue-black hair matted with blood; she must have cut his forehead with her nails, thin trails of red drying on his scalp. A black eye, matching her own that she must have gained at some point in the fight. She remembered every detail of it, but only in terms of her own movements, matching and sparing with his in a dance one of them would regret attending. Seems he has two left feet.

She’d smiled, looking down on him maniacally, her shit-eating grin only widening as she graciously took away his headache. “Looks like I can fend for myself. And don’t pull any, “I was holding back,” bullshit, ‘cause I know when you’re lying, remember?”

He just groaned in pain. She frowned. He didn’t hear most of what she’d said through the blood pounding in his ears. Upon realizing that, she brought down his pain levels enough for him to focus. “I won. Now back off.” Her voice was harsher than the granite cushioning Gerard’s bruised, in some places broken form. But she didn’t hurt him enough to cause serious injury; she wouldn’t want that. She just… she wouldn’t, is all. Not feeling like it in particular; good for him in this case.

Gerard’s eyes rolled up along with his head until he was staring into the first rays of dawn. With a pained groan that turned into a chuckle before dissolving into coughing so hard his bruised ribs threatened to snap, he turned to meet her eyes.

"Strong kick. I like people that can fend for themselves.” With that, his head thudded back, and he did his best to restrain another groan.

And Artemis smiled. The manic look in her eyes dimmed until a relaxed, proud smile shone through, and with that, she manipulated away both of their pains and helped ease him slowly to his feet; they were still injured, despite not feeling the pain. Both were worse for wear, as would be expected between a more formal brawl between their kind. Usually, their fights stay verbal, and sparring matches are a different matter altogether.

Suddenly overcome with guilt, the emotion she hates experiencing more than any other, her breath caught in her throat and she hid her face with a growl, eyes trained on the ground beneath her feet. She felt more than anything else when he lifted his hand and brushed her sweat-and-blood dampened bangs away from her face before dropping it limply, the both of them clutching their sides, nearly doubled over.

“Hey.” His voice was clear cut and only sharpened further. “… I’ve never doubted your strength, never doubted that you can hold your own.”

She snarled at the blatant assertion. “Don’t you fucking lie to me--”

“I don’t want to lose you. I know how close you always are to losing yourself, so… I wanted you to depend on me instead of yourself, all this time. Is that really too selfish?”

He attempted to be mocking in the last phrase, but thankfully it came out more honest than he’d intended and the statement’s neediness shone through, reflected in the heat rising to his cheeks as his left hand once again lifted but this time to scratch his jaw idly, right arm wrapped around his body while her left pressed directly against her own.

Artemis glanced down at the ground, gaze sticking on a bloodied pebble. “... Yeah, I do depend on you, don’t I?” Her hushed, open words sounded from deep in the back of her throat as it clogged with rising revelations.

Gerard looked deeply, seriously, into her eyes, evaluating her openly and hoping she wouldn’t slip into herself again. “... It doesn’t have to mean anything.” He hedged, despite his thick, reserved tone begging it to mean everything.

Artemis’s head quickly jerked up, locking eyes with him. “I think it does.” They didn’t have to speak the words to know they’d already acknowledged in their hearts. 

Gerard limped forward, gently easing her into the warm circle of his arms, her small frame pressed up against his, head resting square in his firm, lean chest. Her nose fell about a foot below his shoulders and she burrowed into him, not knowing how to express her current cocktail of emotions. He just leaned down slightly, encasing her with his body, hands running idly up and down the length of her back and being careful to avoid any tender areas from their brawl. Feeling overcome with emotion, they merely held onto each other and focused on breathing and allowing themselves to just feel, to just be, if only for a short while.

Upon breathing in deeply, Artemis held onto Gerard’s scent as long as she could before breathing it out, deeply enjoying the hug, both their guards down for once and at the same time at that, just existing in the quiet moment that proceeded. She buried her nose into his chest, a slight sheen of sweat making his shirt stick against his skin, and found she very much liked the current turn of events.

Gerard was enjoying the feel of her smooth skin and sinewy muscles, stroking along her spine and humming appreciatively when she arched into him with a pleased sigh. His head bowed, and he hunched until his lips were brushing the top of her head, and he smiled softly. He’d do this right. This relationship, whatever exactly it was or entailed, he’d make her happy in the course of it. She deserves to feel loved, to feel wanted, to be happy, and he’s overjoyed he now has new ways to express just how much he loves her and how hard he’ll continue to fight to make sure she does.

A quiet murmur, not obtrusive enough to break the moment of the reverie. “Want to head back to our room?”

She smiled. While they’d often room together, it was never “our room,” only “the room.” Nuzzling into his chest with a soft sigh, her shoulders dropped and she only then realized they didn’t have to raise them at all.

Softly, not disturbing the moment or disrupting the flow, their blood no longer struggling through capillaries constricted with regret and hearts finally pumping in sync, she replied, “Yeah, let’s go.”


	4. "... I had a key, dumbass"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eroticaaaaaaaa

No one should be out in this weather. But there was nowhere they could go.

They were only passing through the state when it hit — the worst snowstorm of the year. They were only grateful they were near one of their kind’s current hide-aways, and a well-kept one at that. Luckily for them, they arranged to stay in a cabin on the mountain during the storm. Those usually only reserved for their kind when they need hospitalization. Actual hospitals, or anywhere crowded, are never safe for them.

They had a hard time following the path with the heavy snowfall and the trek up it would take an hour, if they were lucky.

Snow drifted down from torrential skies, only to settle in wet clumps beneath their feet. The frigid weather was not brisk enough for it to stick as it went underfoot. A quiet settled amongst them, not a sound heard that they didn’t create. Only the crunching of their boots and huffed breaths permeated the thin air.

Frowning, Gerard’s expression crumpled in situational defeat. His hands ached as a sting ran through them and most of his body, so he shoved them up under his arms as he walked. It didn’t help. He shuddered and his muscles tensed from the cold before he bit the inside of his cheeks. Gerard's eyes narrowed, and he cast Artemis an accusatory glare. They wouldn’t be in this mess if she'd listened to his advice that they stay in the town they were in a few days prior.

Don’t get him wrong; he’s ecstatic she found them a place to stay; he’s pissed they needed one. And though they're both clad in thin garments, at least she can manipulate the freezing cold from her mind! He grimaced with a growl low in his throat; his eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled up in a snarl. He was mad as hell, yeah, but more at their circumstances than anything else. Although, he wasn’t about to let her off the hook. He faced forward and hunched inward before he pressed his leaking nose into the fabric of his hoodie. Another shiver wracked his body and his skin crawled at what he had to himself through.

Artemis trudged along, dressed in sweats, two sweaters, and thin gloves. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms to keep her warm because despite not feeling the cold, her body still was. But if they stopped moving, they wouldn’t make it to the cabin before they froze to death. Artemis glanced unimpressed at his disapproving glare before stalking ahead. “I know what I’m talking about, so shut up.”

Gerard didn’t even bother asserting that he hadn’t been speaking. He’s the one with telepathy, but she’s more observant than he’ll ever hope to be. Street smarts over book smarts, he supposed. But did she know what she was talking about? Not at all.

We both know she'll get it for that snide comment, he thought. He couldn't help but stare at the swish of her hips in the too-large sweats she had on. She’d shoplifted them without bothering to check the size so she rolled them five times at the waist and lived with it. Still, she had a habit of swaying her hips more than necessary. He stared for longer than was necessary and almost forgot he was angry with her for a half-second.

Artemis saw the glint of light up ahead well before Gerard. For the longest time, he only stared at his boots, lifting each foot before stomping it down. He wasn't exactly making the motion purposeful, which made it even more pathetic. She would snap at him to get his ass moving but he’s so fucking tall he was still already outpacing her with the sheer length of his stride.

“It’s just up ahead,” she bit out. “Quit whining and get moving or I’m locking you out. I am the one with the key, remember?” Artemis drawled the words with a bored lilt, pleased that Gerard got himself in gear. He trudged faster and pulled farther ahead of her, although she noticed he kept her within sight and reach. She also couldn’t help but notice the redness in his face, and the way he had his thinly gloved hands cupped under his arms for warmth.

She worked on a plan to repay him she didn’t yet know coincided well with his. Artemis smirked and her cracked lips twitched upwards as she followed quickly on his heels. The thought of warmth and rest finally kicked in as they raced time itself until they reached the old cabin door. As she was reaching into her pocket for the key, Gerard leaned back. Her eyes widened in awe at the stupidity she knew he was about to display.

Before she could stop him, Gerard reared back and side-kicked the heavy, reinforced door clean off its rusted hinges. He hit its only weak spot and took it down without too much effort. Artemis stood there, her white gloves contrasting with the jet black dye of her hip-length hair, and tilted her head with an audible, resigned sigh. Her acidic green eyes narrowed in resignation as strands fell into her vision.

“... I had a key, dumbass.”

He heard her, but he didn’t respond, stomping off his boots and almost dislocating his ankles as he hurried to yank them off his feet. He curled his toes, stomping them into the ground as tears pricked at his eyes from the pain of flexing them.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He chanted this in a mantra as he stomped his toes against the hardwood of the entryway to regain feeling.

She rolled her eyes and peeled off her gloves before she dropped them to the floor of the entryway and rubbed her hands together to warm them up. Leaving Gerard in the entryway, she stalked into the cabin as if she owned the place, even if only for the night. Their kind rotates temporary ownership of useful shelters. As it was, the cabin is small, if not self-sufficient. Composting toilet, warm sheets on the bed, hell, it even has a propane tank so they can cook some food, if there’s any there, that is.

As she mused what she’d make Gerard cook, she sensed him walk up behind her and felt as he wrapped his arms around her middle. She leaned her head back against his chest with a pleased sigh. They still didn’t know the nature of their relationship; it had stuck on “frenemies with benefits.” Their relationship turns tides at will, and luckily for Gerard, it seems they’re both in a pleasant mood.

She was about to turn around and grace him with a tender moment when the moron stuck his freezing cold nose into her neck.

“AH!” She yipped and jumped a foot in the air. Artemis ripped herself away from him and went to deck him in the face. He was lucky enough to catch her fist and quick enough to wrench her arm around her back, giving her time to huff and relax.

“Sorry, did that sting?” That bastard. The lilt in his voice was so cocky and self-assured; he’d definitely ruined the fucking mood.

She seethed, debating whether to give him enough of a painful migraine he’d shut the hell up for once. Before she could reach a decision, he continued.

“Punishment for making me walk through the snow. And for not absolving the pain of the cold and frostbite for anyone but yourself.”

Oh, yeah, that’s right… To be honest, sometimes she forgets about being able to manipulate the senses of others too. Unless they point it out or if she’s angry at them, that is.

Lips curling up ruefully, Artemis decided to play coy.

She twisted her head and batted her eyes up at him with a coquettish smile. She singsonged, “Is that the only punishment I’m going to get?” Before she looked up through her lashes, pleased that his blues deepened with lust already. “... Master?”

He growled around a smirk, bending down to kiss her feverishly, nipping her lips until she opened up to him and relaxed against him. Only then did he release her arm and pull her to him. Meanwhile, Artemis attempted to wrench off his hoodie without breaking contact. Gerard pulled away with a barked laugh and pulled it over his head along with his shirt before divesting her of her own sweaters and shirt. That left her in her sports bra and sweats as he pulled her up against his lithe but firm chest. She hummed with a soft smile.

He guided her over to the pull-out couch-bed in the corner and backed her up, groping her every curve and angle until her legs hit the side and she fell backward. Gerard followed and caged her in. He felt her tense, felt the moment she considered pushing him away, and felt when she pushed the instinct aside. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he leaned down, mouthing, licking, and kissing along her neck, tangling her icy fingers in his blue-black hair. He climbed onto the bed and grinned down at her predatorily, fingers stroking her sides gently, yet possessively. He dug into her hips as he leaned in close, whispering his next words in her ear.

“You’re mine, tonight.” He brushed his cold, chapped lips across her jaw, voice turned husky and deep. “And I’m the one in charge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has two direct sequels, coming up next!


	5. "Good Girl"

As he whispered those words, her heart thudded away in her chest and the snow whirled in a frenzy outside the tiny hillside cabin. They’d gotten inside in the nick of time, but there was one problem…

Artemis grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck with a coy flirt of her lashes. “Hmm, how about you take over after you find some way to barricade the door you broke down?” She batted her eyes at him. “After all, you don’t want me getting too cold to play with, now do you?” For good measure, she ran her right leg up the side of his jean-clad thigh.

He growled deep in his throat and his grin pulled up at the corners before he averted his gaze and buried his face in her neck. “Oh, I’m gonna get you for that, sweetheart.” He made a point of cooing the last word, his lips pressing against her skin before he reluctantly pushed himself up. Artemis admired his toned arms as he did so, which did not go unnoticed. With his pride swelled, Gerard got up and walked over to the door, shivering, although Artemis appreciated the way it made his pale skin ripple. His muscles tensed as he hefted up the reinforced door and rested it in the gap at an angle to help block the snow from getting inside. How he kicked it down in the first place she didn’t know.  _ If only he wasn’t stupid enough to forget I’d told him the key was in my pocket. Twice. How in the hell a literal smarter-than-einstein genius has the memory of a goldfish is beyond me. _

Entryway blocked, Gerard smirked at the ground, a dark glint in his eye.  _ I’ll get her for that.  _ How she constantly forgets about his telepathy is beyond him. Gerard turned around, teeth showing as the right side of his mouth quirked up in a predatory grin. He stalked forward, stance betraying barely held-back control, but his eyes showed how gentle his intentions were. Not that she’d be afraid regardless, but the little show he was putting on for her, asserting his dominance, was turning her on. As soon as he reached the bed, she smiled suggestively. She then shifted and spread her legs enough to be innocuous, while still conveying her obvious intentions. Her heart pounded at her ribs and Gerard didn’t miss the way her pupils dilated. His own matched as he climbed on top of her on the bed, caging her in once again.

Artemis bared her neck, lifting her chin to the side and relaxing beneath him. He took to the offering, beginning to mark her from jaw to collarbone while teasingly keeping himself hovering above her. He wasn't in contact with her other than his lips on her skin. She slid her hands along his chest and back and whimpered for effect and in an attempt to move things along. Gerard just chuckled, less sound than air. She’d never been one for long bouts of foreplay, and although he was, he couldn’t deny she was fucking hot when she tried to move things along. In reprimand for her unworded suggestion, he bit her at the hollow of her throat and his teeth dug in slightly. He gentled the bite when he heard her gasp in pleasure, uncensored and not for effect in the slightest.

Despite this, he lowered his body to hers, beginning to grind against her softly in a way that wouldn’t get either of them off. He could feel that she was about to protest, so he tangled a hand in her dark black, smooth locks and tugged her head to the side further. He explored her with lips, teeth, and tongue, his right hand bracing himself on the bed at her hip.

Artemis arched herself off the bed and into him with a gentle sigh. She’s not the type to be loud in bed, so he always tries to milk every sound he can get. He repeated his earlier action, swirling his tongue lethargically in the hollow of her throat. He delighted in the way she pressed herself against him with a frustrated whine that she couldn't hold back. Her face became more heated, a definite blush adding to her flush from arousal, causing Gerard to laugh. Artemis dug her nails into his back in response. He hissed and growled before he sat back on his knees, grabbed her arms and wrenched them to lie along her sides, pinning them in place.

The new position did nothing but excite her further. Her chest struggling to rise and fall with every breath due to the tight sports bra that she was still wearing for some fucking reason.

Gerard watched her breasts rise and fall with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes before he raised them to her darkened green. His own blues swirled with lust and power and his grin only made his expression appear threatening in the most satisfying way. Despite herself, she squirmed under his intense scrutiny and wished he’d hurry things up already. Her underwear had become drenched already, and he still had his jeans on! Just as she was about to growl, he leaned down until they were nose-to-nose, husked tone sending shivers cascading down her spine.

“Remember that word you used earlier?” He asked, and she frowned, trying to pinpoint what exactly he meant and why he didn’t have her naked yet. Then, “... Hmm? My pet?”

At that, she definitely remembered, and a thin whimper escaped her closed mouth; she fucking needed him! For his part, Gerard seemed way too pleased with himself. He leaned down, kissing her into the thin mattress as he placed his body completely against hers. He once again, all-too-painfully gently, ground their hips together as they both moaned into the kiss.

Gerard still held her arms at her sides as she refused to allow him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. After an age of sweet torture spent kissing without enough contact, he broke the kiss, speaking with his lips blushing hers furtively.

“Now, why don’t you be good and beg for my cock?”

Artemis’s face heated bright red, and she gasped, not very scandalized at the words; she’d grown used to the talk he uses in bed. And she loves it; it’s just so different from how he usually speaks, with cuss words sprinkled only here or there. As she attempted to not sputter in a mix of indignation and arousal, he squeezed her arms tight to her sides with a nip to her bottom lip, making her arch against him.

“Well?” Bastard. He was way too fucking smug.

But that didn’t stop her from complying and giving in if only this once. “Please.”

“Please, what?” She refused to look into his eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold back if she did, but the pout and all-around needy expression on her face told it all.

“... Please master. I need--” She stuttered, hardly able to believe she was saying this. He’d never teased her like this before, but, well, she loves it. She cleared her throat before swallowing, and he hungrily watched the movement of her throat. Her eyes locked onto his. “I need your cock.” The words were barely above a whisper, strained with urgency.

His eyelids lowered with smug pride. “Good girl.”

With that, he released her arms and grabbed her around her middle, pulling Artemis up so he could grab the band of her bra and pull it over her head. He then let her drop back down onto the bed. Her newly exposed skin called out for him to mark, but first…

Gerard spun her around so she lay face-down on the thin sheets, and she gasped before frowning in obvious, though short-lived confusion.

He’d grabbed his long-sleeved cotton shirt and held it so she could see since her right cheek pressed against the bedding. “I’m going to tie you up with this.” His tone made it obvious that if she said or even hinted she was uncomfortable with it, he would pretend he’d never suggested the notion. That is why she’s with him.

She smiled slightly before nodding. When he didn’t move, she elaborated with, “Fucking-- yes!” With that he pulled each hand behind her and began wrapping the sleeves around her wrists at the small of her back, using a well-practiced knot that she couldn’t easily escape from. Although again, she knew if she didn’t want it on, it would be taken off immediately.

Artemis flexed her arms to show she couldn't move her arms, and he smiled before he pulled down her oversized, rolled at-the-waist sweats in one go. That left her, well, actually his underwear wrapped around her hips. With a huff of laughter, he swatted a cheek playfully. She “eeped” before she could hold it back. Her face colored as she squirmed and ground her hips into the mattress to get some relief, despite how much she’d rather get it from his cock.

“Oh no, you don’t.” He grabbed her hips and flipped her once again, her trapped arms leaving her body completely at his mercy. He kissed heatedly down the valley between her breasts, and she wanted to beat him over the head to get him to hurry. Not that she would’ve if she could, of course. He reached her belly button and nipped above the skin, causing her to once again squirm against his hands. He braced them on her thighs as he dipped his tongue inside and relished her resulting moan.

Despite how much fun it was, torturing his lover like that, his pants were getting way too tight and like hell was he going to come early. With a growl, he nosed down the briefs she was wearing and was pleased to find that they had completely soaked through. Pushing up so he towered above her, Gerard’s lips widened to show his teeth.

“Is this too much for you, my pet?” The lilt in his voice was positively infuriating. 

She’d already begged for his fucking cock, and he was still hell-bent on torturing her? Well… he had said this was her punishment. Maybe if she acted all sweet…

She lowered her gaze and avoided his eyes. She let loose the whine building up in her throat. “Master… please. I can’t take this…”

Blue eyes narrowed challengingly. Oh, shit. Wrong call.

“Can’t take it already?” His tone was patronizing, the bastard, and if she wasn’t so fucking horny she’d beat him over the head for that.

But before she could worry he’d deny her orgasm any longer, he huffed out a breath through his nose in amusement, eyes warming with humor. Did she fuck up, or…?

“Good for you I’m also getting a little impatient,” he purred in a way that made Artemis’s stomach curl with arousal, deep, heady, and needy in a way only he could cure.


	6. In the Circle of His Arms

Her heart lurched excitedly in her chest as he shifted down on the bed and nuzzled against her hip. It nearly fried her thought processes in anticipation. Oh~… please yes. She begged in her mind, not willing to voice her thoughts out loud in fear that he’d only tease her more first.

Gerard mouthed along her hip, leaving gentle kisses in his wake as he steadily moved downwards to her aching clit. Artemis trembled in anticipation and her legs quivered as she begged with her body as she refused to do so with words.

Gerard neared closer and closer before — she arched up with a needy gasp and half-shout as he wrapped his mouth around her and suctioned tightly. He kneaded her with his lips as she struggled futilely against the knots, writhing in pure bliss. She bucked up in search of more stimulation, and his right hand moved from stroking her inner thigh to holding down her hip firmly. She gasped while small, needy sounds did their best to escape her lungs. Artemis arched her spine, upper back lifting off the bed as she tried to ground herself against the steadily mounting pleasure. When she tossed her head to her right shoulder and moaned unrestrained, Gerard finally couldn’t take it any longer.

With one last pulse of his tongue against her clit, her legs quivered and spread open as wide as they could go and he sat back on his heels. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, looking very satisfied with himself. Gerard leaned up so he towered over her and unzipped his dark wash jeans. He pushed them down along with his boxers and kicked them off to the floor, his impressive length on display. Gerard stroked it once, gathering the pre-cum at the tip and running it down his length. He didn’t have lube on hand, but as he admired her quivering, leaking hole, he thought they were likely safe on that aspect. Condoms were irrelevant, luckily. They’re both clean, and in some semi-cruel twist of fate, their kind is incapable of reproducing. Even nature itself doesn’t want them around.

She was coming back to herself, her blood rushing in her ears. “Master…” she begged breathlessly. “Please, I need your cock. Please, just fuck me!” Urgency laced her words; he usually never makes her wait this long.

“Hmm? Need it that bad already?” Condescension was clear in his tone and expression, although his eyes were warm and churning with desire. He reached up and grasped her breasts, one in each hand, and kneaded them softly as he kneeled between her knees. Artemis moaned, arching into him despite her embarrassment at her current position. Then he flicked her nipples, pinching and rubbing them none-too gently, and she flushed yet again as he played with her body at his leisure. “I’ve barely even gotten any stimulation; do you really think that’s fair?”

Her blood decided it had much more important places to be and every last drop drained from her face. It left her pale, eyes wide as her lips quivered. She knew he was only teasing her, and yet, in her current state, she thought she’d explode from how pent-up she was. She couldn’t even handle waiting through a little more teasing on his end. “Master, please!” Her voice cracked on the last word, and Gerard immediately leaned down. He shushed her as he kissed her oh-so-softly. His left hand stroked against her cheekbones, and his nose nuzzled against hers.

“It’s all right, I know you can’t take it anymore. Relax.” He breathed against her lips, and she did her best to but couldn’t stop herself from trembling in need. “Hey, how do you want it?” He asked it with care, brushing her sweat-matted bangs from her face and pressing a kiss onto her forehead.

The flush returned to her cheeks. “L-like this, please.” Her voice was quiet and polite, almost meek, and that alone confirmed that she was at her limit for the time being.

Gerard nodded and pressed one last chaste kiss against her lips before he kneeled between her legs and braced his knees against the bed. He then guided his dick into her warm, wet, tight entrance. They both groaned in relief at the connection and Gerard leaned down. He pressed his forehead against hers as they laid chest-to-chest, her perky nipples and clit receiving stimulation from the way they pressed together. He kept most of his weight off of her, leaving enough so she’d feel thoroughly pinned beneath him. He knew, for as much as she was always one to want to be in control, sometimes she liked him to dominate her. Sometimes she wants the thrill of being able to relax and open up to him because she trusts him. He can understand. For him, who stays back to protect those he cares about, it's a relief to be in charge. He loves that he can his possessive nature to strike through and claim her entirely.

They both moaned in satisfaction as Gerard made the initial, careful thrust inside. He continued pressing in as far as he could until their hips ground together. His arms flexed to either side of her head where they were caging her in. Artemis was trembling at the feeling of penetration, although by this point they’re so used to each other’s bodies he knew it was entirely out of pleasure. She weakly brought her hips up. Even that slight movement caused her to suck in air through her teeth before releasing it in a drawn-out moan. They both shuddered, tremors running through their spines.

He hovered above her, waiting for Artemis to give the signal that it was okay to move. But he was losing his sense of control. She was feeling overwhelmed with having her pleasure stretched out for so long. Her head angled back, eyes scrunched closed and her chest heaved, plush, firm breasts pressed against Gerard’s lean chest. She was about to give the okay to continue when he gently bit at her exposed throat and she gasped as if stung. Before he could apologize she moaned out, “For fuck’s sake, please! Move!”

Noting the distress and lust that warred for control of her voice, he slowly ground his cock into her warmth. His cockhead pressed deep inside of her and stretched her past the point she thought she could be. After only but a moment of this he thrust in and out, waiting to see her reaction.

Artemis arched off the bed, arms struggling against their restraints as she cried out, “YES!” He took that as the positive reaction it was and picked up the pace until he was fucking her earnestly. His turgid cock pumped in and out of her in tandem with her cries. They’d been sexual partners for so long he knew exactly the right places to hit and overloaded her.

As their hips continued to grind together, she felt that telltale pressure rebuilding in her clit and deep, heady pleasure pitting in her stomach, begging for release. After only a few well-timed thrusts she came for the first time with a loud holler wrapped around the sound of his name, hardly distinguishable in her bliss. Her toes rapidly curled and uncurled, and her back bowed under the intense euphoria. But he gave her no quarter, no rest as he continued slamming into her. He grunted and gasped quietly, lost in the throes of his own pleasure. Artemis had just come down from her first high as she entered the build-up to the next. She panted and squirmed in utter bliss.

“Heh. You like this, don’t you?” Gerard growled low in her ear before he moved to look into her eyes. Their noses practically bumped, and she quaked under the intensity of his heated gaze. Artemis gulped before nodding despite herself. Gerard chuckled in the back of his throat, the sound guttural and thick with sexual promise. “Yeah, you like it when I fuck you hard and rough.”

He didn’t slow his thrusts for a moment, not even as he reached between their hips and slowly started massaged her clit as he thrust. He lifted the hood and pressed in, resulting in a satisfying scream, before he massaged the mound above and appreciated how tears came into her eyes. Her mouth fell open at the excessive stimulation, bringing her to another orgasm as quickly as the first.

By this point, Gerard could feel as he built to a crescendoing rhythm, a gratifying pressure building in his balls, which slapped lewdly against her entrance with every thrust. He moved her entire body on the bed with the sheer force behind the movement of his hips. Artemis was beyond words at this point. Her body rode each high and low as he built her up to many orgasms. He alternated between marking her up even further to show the world that she belonged to him and groping her breasts and along her sides, squeezing her in the most satisfying ways.

Just then the pressure inside his balls intensified, and he slammed in as hard and rough as he could manage without harming her, knowing she was just as excited by the rough treatment as he was. Just as he reached his tipping point she came again, full-on crying at the overstimulation she was receiving from the multitude of orgasms she’d experienced. Gerard spilled his seed inside of her. He buried himself as deep as possible and croaked out a long, drawn-out moan as his cock pulsed inside of her with his release.

Artemis lay trembling beneath him, quaking as tremors shuddered through her slim form. Gerard felt as they more or less came back to themselves. He buried his face in the left side of her neck where he placed small kisses to ground them both. His muscles felt noodle-like as he hefted himself off of her long enough to pull his limp, sticky length out of her hole. A small flood of semen leaked out with it and soiled the sheets. He disregarded it and nearly collapsed back on top of her in sated bliss.

“Gerard…!” Her voice, ragged from over-use and desperate, brought him back to himself. He pulled himself back up and soothingly rubbed her hips, hushing her, before he pulled her up to lie against him. He untied the knot, all without a word. Gerard softly mouthed at her neck as he brushed her silky black hair over one shoulder and let her lie against him for support. Her breathing was slowly evening out and her eyes drooped, exhausted from the trek and the ensuing pleasure she’d received. With the knot untied, he decided they’d clean up their mess in the morning and dropped the shirt on the floor to deal with later before he wrapped himself around her, Artemis’s face pressed into his chest, and he spooned against her.

Before she slipped into unconsciousness, Gerard crooned into her ear, “I love you…” Before she could reply she fell asleep, in the circle of his arms.


	7. The Past Dies Where the Future Lies

The music blared out into the alley as the door opened and closed, too loud for the not-quite morning time of night, the sign in the window blinking neon lights, reading, "McDonnelleys." A sign posted on the door advertised the weekly Saturday "Blast Night." Or, as Gerard liked to think of it, the one day when they played lively music instead of the classics, when others crowded close to each other to dance and when he and Artemis could go together and forget about being who they are. Forget about their pasts. Forget about what they lived through, what they’d been forced to be. And where they can try to convince themselves things really are completely better now.

A full year ago, to the day, a coalition had been announced among several of the world’s nations, and thankfully America was taking part. The coalition… gave them human rights. Gave “superpowered” individuals the right to live, to exist, and to have a future.

No one believed it at first. Sure, society had been changing, but to that degree? It was too good to be true. It turns out; it wasn’t.

But there was a catch. Although, he has to admit it wasn’t a bad one. The coalition committed to protecting them now… as if they hadn’t strapped them down to tables and tortured them, dissected them, while they were still alive, just to see how their powers reacted. But now, they wizened up and realized that if they gave them rights, kept them safe, gained their trust, they wouldn’t try to “take over the world” (never the goal might he add) and the gov could get them to work with them instead of hiding from them.

And so the mandate came about. All of their kind with the powers have human rights and received acquittance from all prior crimes, no matter what they are. They could reclaim their identity prior to their power’s presentation, or the right to create a new identity. They become legal citizens of the country they are in, and under the coalition’s care. But they don’t have a job or a place to live, and certainly no social skills. They have the right to go back to their old lives. 

If they join the program they not only get a job and a house, an actual house, but they get psychological counseling, free psychiatric care, and medications, and are set up for living a normal life. They just have to agree to being studied, non-invasively, they assured them.

He frowned down at the top of the bar table where he sat inside the pub. With a morose sigh, he twirled his left hand which held his scotch; the ice clinking softly against the sides of the glass as he ignored thoughts bubbling to the surface of his conscious thoughts of how he and Artemis found out about and subsequently joined the program. Those were thoughts for another day, reflections he doesn’t want to consider here, during “Blast Night,” or the celebration that occurs every Saturday since the mandate. The celebration that everyone has trouble fully enjoying, thoughts of those they’ve lost along the way fighting with their current situation. Thoughts of how far gone they are themselves…

But this place. McDonnelley’s. This is where they could just exist amongst the sea of moving bodies and not constantly have to watch their backs. This pub had been founded by one of their kind, forcibly sponsored by the damn coalition as they marketed the idea as a way to “socially reform” them. The worst part is that we all need it.

It was hard to concentrate on any one thing. Inside the bar, the lights and noise filled the room with a sense of energy that had him on edge. With the normalcy that’s overtaken their lives now, he finds it difficult to be in any high-energy situation, always fearful of his past once again being his present. He knew Artemis would be even more anxiety-riddled; she'd never liked crowds or noise. Ever, even before presenting. But it’s worse now; she said it reminded her too much of things she'd rather forget. Gerard wondered just how many memories she has that she'd rather not remember. He has far too many himself. But despite all of that, they showed up on Saturday's often, feeling slightly more peaceful surrounded by others of their kind.

How it’s changed. He thought as he greeted a… new friend. He’s never had a friend before. He dated two people before Artemis, and that was it. His first partner died, and his second… Jax wasn’t a good boyfriend, and he was a horrible person. He’s one of the few ones of their kind locked up because he didn’t stop committing crimes, even after the mandate.

After exchanging brief pleasantries she moved on to interact with others, and he went back to moodily staring at the grooves in the bar-top, pondering the insane degree to which everything’s changed. Even social interactions are now so, so very different. Their kind used to never interact with each other except for small couplings for sanity’s sake. “Safety in numbers” is largely bullshit. No, “safety in solitude” more like it. When they’re alone, they’re less likely to attract attention. Now they don’t have to worry about that, and they can finally interact with one another, although they all still largely keep to small groups.

Just then the music changed, and he swiveled around in his chair at hearing the familiar lyrics. He spotted Artemis and watched as she danced to a song by a punk band that he had the logo of on his shirt. 

A wave of nostalgia, a distant memory resurfacing suddenly hit him. He remembers the time they truly admitted their feelings for each other. It started off with a fight, as usual. They'd just had an argument, and she swore up and down she could beat him to death if she wanted, powers aside. She'd been right. From where he lay, bloodied on the concrete floor, the buildings surrounding the lonely alley caging him in, bruises forming along his sides, he'd done nothing more than spat out the blood welling inside his cheek from his busted gum and croaked, "Strong kick. I like people that can fend for themselves," before relaxing back onto the bed of asphalt and groaning in pain. And she'd done nothing but smiled, standing over him proudly, looking nowhere near as worse for wear.

He still remembers how her proud smile had softened until the almost manic light in her eyes dimmed into pity, and damn if he wasn't glad to see it and humble enough to be grateful. With no time seeming to pass Gerard had suddenly been aware of the pain being gone. It was as if he'd imagined it all along. She'd held out her hand to help him up and her lips had curved up gracefully, not a happy smile but a meaningful one. He'd understood what she was trying to convey, and nodded before reaching up and taking her hand, easing slowly to a standing position. Despite the lack of pain, he'd known how badly she’d injured him. He'd also known that while she'd shown no mercy, she hadn't shown malice, either. That was when he'd known she felt the same. They didn't need to discuss it at the time, and they didn't. But since then they have.

He leaned back against the bar, humming in thought. Since that day, they've discussed a lot of things, and all of them concern only the here and the now. He supposed it makes sense. They’ve lived their whole lives imagining this future. Damn close, at least. Now that they have it, they don’t really fully know what to do with it. He can't help but think about before they got there, what they went through, both together and apart, and he can't help but think about a past too agonizing to want to remember and too horrible to forget.

Just then, a hand landed on his shoulder from behind and he nearly jumped a foot in the air, startled out of his reverie. He whirled around, sucking in air through his teeth when he realized Artemis was almost nose-to-nose to him, and he gulped, only partly out of attraction. Her damn eyes. In the light they appeared to glow, a bright bottle green, so bright they appear unnatural and containing an edge sharp enough to cut through anything she deemed to be in her way. She smiled lopsidedly, the right side of her lips lifting higher than the left, her teeth bared and her eyes blown wide, giving her a look simultaneously comical and sinister, chilling him to the bone even as he realized he wasn't shivering from fear.

"Spacing out already?" She cooed, that expression still on her face before her eyes warmed and her smile turned closed lips and flirty, her head tilting to meet her right shoulder as she raised a hand and lifted his chin almost imperceptibly with the tip of her index finger, and he didn't miss the way it made him look down into her eyes, knowing it was her intention. He blinked, the right corner of his mouth lifting as he shook his head then released an incredulous rush of breath, lips puffing out with the released air that immediately caught between them. If she wanted to flirt, he'd flirt.

His eyes locked onto hers with a smirk as he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him, leaning down and pressing his lips to her neck. She's about average height, and he's decidedly not; most guys don't hit six-foot-nine. Artemis only reaches his shoulder even with the added five-inches of her heeled steel-toed boots, so even with him sitting at the low bar his head was still well above her own. He gently massaged the center of her lower back, listening to her hum of approval and appreciating how well she fit into his arms, how right it felt to hold her close, and thrilled at the power exchange taking place. Artemis usually took charge, with her need to control her life, while Gerard preferred to live spontaneously. It worked between them because sometimes she needed to relinquish her control to someone she trusts, not always able to keep herself strong, and sometimes he needed the security she brings and to indulge in the need to be protective. They keep each other sane.

"Just thinking about you. Got a problem with that, Artemis?" He punctuated his words with a nip to her neck, ego swelling as he heard the gasp she tried to stifle.

Artemis breathed in deeply before relaxing against him. When she pulled back, she leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. He studied her lips as she spoke. "Yeah, 'cause you weren't watching me dance… I felt like you were ignoring me…" By the tone of her voice, he knew she wanted him to go along with the little game.

He tightened his arms around her and tilted his face so their lips were ghosting against each other. No one would pay them any notice, not here. "You always have my full attention. But if you want affection…" He pecked her lips gently. "You only have to ask…" Another peck, before he nibbled at her jaw. His hands traveled the plains of her back, ghosting along her spine. His words whispered against the skin of her neck this time, hot breath and lips, tongue and teeth. "Say the words." It was a command.

Artemis sighed out longingly, her body melting against him with the action, the words, "Please, Gerard, I need you…" spilling from her lips, hushed and urgent. While she usually can't handle not having the balance of power tipped in her favor, relationship matters are different. He knows what she likes. She wants him to be in control but doesn't want to make it easy; she challenges that control, and he reasserts it. It's a skillful balance.

He pulled her into his lap, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her fiercely, stealing the breath from her lungs before she could breathe it in. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she held him closer still, arching against his firm chest, and he enjoyed the way her chest felt against his. Their hearts beat in sync, racing at the thrill of the moment, even as the kiss calmed into a brief series of lips brushing furtively, so they could draw air into their lungs once more, but unwilling to let any air in the space between them. After an age, Gerard relinquished his tight hold on Artemis enough for her to move away if she so chose, but she laid her head against his heart, feeling it beating through the thin fabric of his band tee, and smiled to think of her happiness during the moment, not dependent on their past nor their highly probable lack of a future. For now, this is enough.

They relaxed against one another, Gerard stroking his hands through her soft jet black hair, holding her close. Moments like this, where they're not alone but feel privacy are special. Too special to ruin with words. They rested before Artemis reluctantly pulled away. Gerard let her stand up and smiled at her, the moment held not in the air but in their eyes, meeting and holding to affirm they both understood how the other felt, and converting to memory not the thoughts in their head but the look in their eyes.

Artemis put her hands on her hips, clad in a neon green miniskirt patterned like snakeskin. He'd always thought it was fitting on her and means it as the compliment she knows it is. Her jet black sleeves draped over her slender hands, soft, dyed-black hair down for once and nearly reaching her hips. He couldn't decide where to look, having not yet admired his love from up close that evening, his eyes flitting down to her long, pale legs, which seemed to stretch on forever with along the sinewy muscles that he knew could kick strong enough to incapacitate, or even kill. Then he looked back at her face, seeing the beginnings of a smirk play across her lips. Her eyes narrowed playfully, and she leaned in close, the low-cut of her top distracting him even as he forced himself to look into her eyes and not her chest. He knows from experience that she likes it when he's a gentleman, likes when he's sincere about his intentions and comfortable enough to wear his emotions on his sleeves. Then she leaned in, but this time she turned her head and whispered into his ear, nose brushing against his blue-black hair, sending his pulse racing faster and faster with her every word as all thoughts of being a gentleman fled.

"Like what you see, Gerard?" She whispered, simultaneously sweetly and dangerously, his name sounding oh so right in her dark lilt before she pulled back just enough to kiss the side of his lips but darted back with a coy smile before he could once again pull her close. She clasped her hands behind her back, tossing her head so her locks fell behind her right shoulder, and turned on her heels, sauntering away and only turning back to wink, her heeled combat boots clicking against the linoleum as she blended into the crowd. She knows exactly what she does to him. And he knows exactly what he does to her.

Damnit. Sitting at the bar, now alone once more, is decidedly not the time to be getting excited. Willing himself into a state of unaroused calm, he crossed his left leg over the opposite knee, bright blue converse contrasting against his shredded dark-wash jeans, and leaned back against the red-topped granite surface of the bar. The bartender who ignored their actions from a moment prior, wordlessly set down a random drink in front of him and he took it with a nod of thanks. Tipping the glass against his lips and remembering what it feels like to have hers against his, he felt as the cool liquid slid down his throat, burning a good deal before washing down and drowning out the frantic beating of his heart.

Artemis… He still remembers the first time he met her when he’d just turned twenty-one, her only about a year younger. He remembers seeing her stare down the barrel of a gun and he could sense she had their kind's power, but she wasn't using it. She'd… just stared. Blankly. He got her to safety, thinking she had a reason to not harm the bastard pointing the loaded weapon right between her eyes. Then she'd looked at him and just asked him why he even bothered to save her. Not a thank you, not a "why would you save a total stranger," but a "why bother?" as if her own life were more meaningless to her than it would be to him. It made him uncomfortable, and he'd decided right then and there that he wouldn't let her die. So that night he'd taken her to meet others like himself. He’d always wondered what she’d gone through, who she used to be before presenting, the life she’d had before they took it away, but for years she didn’t tell him.

A few nights after they released the mandate, she finally did. Artemis spoke in sharp, brief sentences, as if she was recounting someone else’s past and not her own. She told him about the day she’d watched one random kid's movie with her parents and how they’d cried. She told him that for a few minutes she didn't realize why, until she remembered how much they feared her, and how that was the first time she’d seen her father cry. About how she suddenly realized it was a distraction and as soon as she came to that revelation, she grabbed the bag she'd had prepared since her powers presented, just three years prior, and she ran, escaping just in time. She's only alive because she realized it was the first time she'd seen her father cry. She's only alive because she didn't hesitate, deciding if she was wrong she could come back, but she wasn't wrong. Her parents had become too afraid of her. They'd made a call, and they’d almost taken her away. And back then, when the government took you away, you never came back.

Just listening to her story, the curt words she'd used and her indifferent inflection had him horrified beyond words. He'd cried, not even bothering to hide his anguish at hearing her suffering, despite how long ago it occurred. He knew she hadn't moved on, she'd simply distanced herself so she could ignore the pain. Because her powers only work on physical pain, not the kind that wasn’t able to heal with an aspirin. 

He knows it still hurts her, because her new name, her new identity, has nothing to do with her past. He reclaimed his identity, but she never wants hers back.

He reclaimed his family. They embraced him with open arms, and all the crying was too much for everyone to bear. They embraced Artemis too. Artemis. He still thinks of them in terms of codenames; their kind is too used to it to do anything but, although he tries to reform his thinking whenever he catches his mistake. He and Artemis now share his family, and for the first time, they truly feel like they’re safe.

But the thoughts of before and his persistent and lingering nightmares that it will go back to the horror of before plagued him. He clenched his jaw, tightening his hold on the glass nearly enough to crack it. Just as he was about to get up and try to find her in the crowd, his phone vibrated with the onset of a text.

**Ready to head home. I can see u sulking. Anything i can do to fix that? -Artemis**

He smiled ruefully. His own thoughts had him depressed, but as he read the words, his heart lightened just enough. He typed out a hasty reply, searching the crowd and glimpsing her near the back, by the soda fountain, where she usually camps out. He keeps begging Don to put a soda fountain behind the bar so he can sit with her and they can sip their respective drinks of choice together, but so far, no dice. He lifted his hand in a wave and stood after draining his glass.

**I can think of a few things -Gerard**

**Hmm. Ambitious, are we? -Artemis**

He smirked down at his phone before stuffing it into his pocket as he pushed through the crowd, and within moments was standing facing her, her head angled up as far as she could to look him in the eyes, looking up at him through her lashes with a dark smile that held intense promises. His dark blue eyes followed her lips as they quirked further upwards under his stare, and he smiled widely. Offering her his hand, she sidled up close to his left side as they walked back home. 


End file.
